The Midnight Clear
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: AU. It's New Year's Eve in Castle Gaius, and Milla is spending the last minutes before midnight contemplating the concept of happiness. As a former spirit, she's never thought human standards apply to her… but when she starts counting her blessings, she discovers that she has more than she thinks. Super-fluffy family stuff. I do not own Tales of Xillia or the cover art!


_Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Viisauden! And congratulations on gaining another ship for your fleet._

 _With regard to the nature of this AU, the shortest explanation is that it's as if fractured Milla's dimension was prime. There are several relatively minor differences, but none of them are very important right now. This little episode would take place several years after a story I haven't written yet, and therefore involves the "next generation", hence the OCs._

 _This may have been named after my favorite Christmas hymn, but for best results, you might consider listening to "Curtain of Beads" on TaiGekTou's YouTube channel instead; it's better suited to this ship. And now, without further ado…_

* * *

Milla had never imagined that she would love life so much.

For as long as she could remember, she had always believed with all her being that she would never be able to attain true happiness. Maxwell may have abandoned her to live out her life as an ordinary human almost three decades ago, but the people of Nia Khera had never _treated_ her like a human—so Milla had always assumed that she wouldn't be able to experience the same pleasures.

It might have helped if the definition of happiness hadn't been so contested; she must have heard of a dozen ways to find it, and none of them seemed to fit her. Not enlightenment, nor success… nor even love.

At the age of six, Milla had been too young to understand the meaning of accomplishing her mission, and her victory had of course been darkened by her sister's disappearance. By the time she had grown old enough to recognize her achievements, she had realized that once one task was complete, another always took its place. In that respect, there was no such thing as ultimate success; only the brief satisfaction that came with reaching each goal in turn.

As for more material considerations, Milla had never really understood them either. As queen of Auj Oule these eleven years, she quite literally wanted for nothing, but that was hardly a result of her station. Perhaps it was the frugal nature of her upbringing, but she didn't usually desire more than she needed—food and drink being an occasional (delicious) exception.

This wasn't to say that Milla didn't know happiness when she felt it; she did have to admit that love was quite as intoxicating as any liqueur. It had been uncomfortable at first, but once she understood why her gut fluttered and her heart hammered so hard, she almost enjoyed it. And when she realized that Gaius shared her symptoms? _That_ was happiness.

But was that joy lessened at all by everything they had shared since then? The pleasures of physical intimacy could hardly be denied, after all; from a _personal_ standpoint, Milla had never understood the appeal until Gaius had taught her. And though she had also heard it said that the happiest moment of a woman's life was her wedding, she also vividly remembered the triumphant afterglow following the birth of her children.

Could any single instance of happiness be compared with any other…?

"My love?" asked Gaius in a low voice, stirring Milla out of her complex thoughts, and slightly tightened one arms around her waist to draw her closer still, his other resting atop her heart. His voice was quiet, almost reverent; she shivered automatically as his soft breath tickled her ear. "Are you still awake?"

Milla opened her eyes and tilted her head back to gaze up at him, curving her hand to the back of his head and briefly massaging his perpetually stiff muscles. "Yes," she assured him, and he leaned forward to press a light and lingering upside-down kiss on her forehead. "Just… thinking. That's all."

Gaius chuckled, readjusting her position on his lap. "I won't pry," he told her, and she found herself smiling. One of the many reasons she so adored her husband was that her privacy was still prioritized, even after over a decade of married life. "I only wanted to know if I should carry you to bed."

"Of course not," she remarked, nudging him mischievously; he gave a playful growl, tightening his embrace in response. He should know by now that she wouldn't be caught dead sleeping through the dawn of a new year. "But _after_ midnight, you can carry me wherever you want. Till then, I'm staying right here, awake, with you."

Gaius chuckled softly, pulling her up to nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck; Milla's eyes closed, her breath catching momentarily. "Anywhere I want," he murmured, his mouth brushing warmly against her skin. "I still think bed… though perhaps for different reasons, now."

"Oh, is that so?" teased Milla, shifting her weight on his lap to make herself more comfortable; he moved slightly to accommodate her, and they shared a knowing smile. "And what reasons might those be?"

But he had no need to answer; they understood one another perfectly well. "Mmm," was Gaius's only, contented response as he closed his eyes, and they lapsed into a wonderfully comfortable silence as he rested his lips in her hair. The wind whispered of seasons past; Milla had so much to be grateful for. Gazing into the heart of their fire, she smiled faintly, counting her myriad blessings like stars.

First and foremost, of course, was her family. There was Gaius, obviously, but there were also the children he had given her—not to mention the Chimeriad and their kin. Each one of them was as precious to her as life itself… though she had to admit that her own children were ever-so-slightly more important.

They were, in a word, _beautiful_. Perhaps Milla was just biased, since they took after their rather attractive father; but their eyes were a shade or two lighter, like her own, and their hair was far more unruly. In fact, earlier that day, Ivar had tried to drag a comb through each of their manes in turn and declared it impossible, though Leia had resolutely taken over and persevered until they were both properly presentable.

Of course, it was all for naught as soon as their triplets whisked the royal children off to play spirits knew what; but they took such good care of their children, almost as if they were their own. And, come to think of it, Leia had once confided in her that Dante had been the reason she and Ivar had decided to have kids in the first place. She certainly hadn't bargained for the three little devils she got on her first go; but she loved her sons dearly, no matter how much of a pain they could be.

But Milla could certainly understand why her son had so inspired them; she had little choice but to admit that Dante was nothing short of a blessing. At the tender age of seven, he was already demonstrating the qualities of a worthy ruler; but often, Milla feared that he was forcing himself to mature too quickly—placing himself in a role for which he was not yet ready, in an effort to live up to his parents' admittedly daunting precedent.

Even his attitude towards his younger sister was one of watchful protectiveness, which Gaius and Milla both thought admirable (and adorable)… but which the wild and free-spirited Allura did not. Lately, she had grown fond of telling her brother exactly how long it would be until she turned five years old, with the implication that he couldn't tell her what to do anymore. At this point, her glee was barely contained, since her birthday was the day after tomorrow.

As independent and authoritative as she could be, Allura didn't especially like being called "Princess". That didn't stop the Chimeriad from doing it anyway, of course; so in return, she retaliated by calling them by familial honorifics—except for Wingul, whom she called _Master_ in an effort to endear herself to him so he would agree to tutor her in swordplay.

The others became Grandpa Jiao, Auntie Presa, and Auntie Agria; the latter two were distinct in their titles from _Aunt_ Karla, perhaps to distinguish between her actual relatives and the castle residents. But Milla supposed it was worth noting that Allura still called Presa's long-distance husband Uncle Alvin, possibly because she didn't have any real uncles with whom to confuse him.

Milla pressed her lips together; the mercenary should be back in town any time now, given the impending festival. Prior to his shift in allegiance, Alvin had willingly contributed to the near destruction of reality as they'd all known it; after all was said and done, his crimes had been pardoned on the basis that he had helped fix the problems he'd created, and Gaius had chosen to keep him in his employment. However, he was forbidden from residing in the castle, even after he married Presa… and even after the birth of their only child.

That said, Milla had chosen some years ago to put him up in the Kanbalar inn whenever he was in the area. She might not have done it if her son hadn't been born a little over a year before his daughter, because after that point, she recognized what it meant to have a child—and if he couldn't live with them, the least Milla could do was ensure that he had _somewhere_ to stay whenever he was in town. Nobody should have to pay to see their family, she reasoned.

Thank the spirits Presa's daughter took after her mother, she thought; otherwise, loath as she was to admit it, she might not trust the girl around her children. Milla would have been more inclined to encourage her children in friendships with Jude and Elize's daughters, if only he had accepted Gaius's offer to join the Chimeriad all those years ago; but as it was, they all lived quite happily in Rashugal. And besides, their children were both so young that it would be a few more years before either of them would be much company anyway.

Not that Wingul's children were much older, of course; but as Dante and Allura's cousins, both of them at least been born with some common ground. Not to mention, they all lived together… which was actually something of a miracle. Gaius had initially disapproved of the match which had brought them forth, irrespective of his sister's feelings on the matter, until Milla pointed out as gently as possible that he was being selfish.

Of course, that didn't keep him from briefly reconsidering at their wedding reception, when a possibly jealous Agria had drunkenly declared that Wingul had only married Karla because she reminded him of the king. Only when threatened with immediate dismemberment on multiple fronts had she reluctantly relented, and Gaius—thankfully choosing to ignore her comments—gave his blessing anyway.

"And after all that, you missed it," he remarked, sitting in the here and now, and Milla came back to herself only to realize that the air was filled with the cacophonous music of gongs and fireworks. Gaius shifted under her as if to get up, and Milla recognized her cue with a jolt; she turned her legs aside, draping one arm around his shoulders.

Supporting her back with one hand and her knees with the other, he got to his feet; Milla smiled, resting her head on his broad shoulder. "I wouldn't have wanted it any other way," she murmured, as they began the short journey to their bedroom. "That was a good start to the new year."

Gaius glanced at her sideways, and though at first he said nothing, he finally gave a light sigh. "What was?" he asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him, and rounded the corner. "It must have been important, for you to get so lost in your thoughts."

Milla's smile widened as he pushed open their door, closing it behind them. "I was just thinking of everything I have to be grateful for," she responded simply, swinging her legs lazily. "You, the children… the family we've made for ourselves. It still feels like a dream sometimes." She hesitated. "But I never want to wake up," she whispered.

Gaius only set her down gently on their bed, gazing down at her with a thousand warm emotions filling his half-closed eyes. And, as he leaned down to meet her lips softly, in slow and dreamlike ardor, Milla knew he felt the same way, and smiled into their kiss. This rare tenderness—so unlike their rougher passions—was not enlightenment, nor success, nor even love. It was all of them at once, bound by the light of belonging.

 _This_ was happiness.


End file.
